


no, no, no, have you no ambition?

by WattStalf



Series: Commissions [196]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: HeartGold & SoulSilver | Pokemon HeartGold & SoulSilver Versions
Genre: F/M, Face-Fucking, Loss of Virginity, Rape/Non-con Elements, Vaginal Sex, Watersports, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26668198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: Lyra thinks that she's ready to become the champion. Lance knows that she isn't.
Relationships: Kotone | Lyra/Wataru | Lance
Series: Commissions [196]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1325462
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	no, no, no, have you no ambition?

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in four parts as part of a prompt stream but I'm posting it as one whole fic

Lyra is overjoyed when she watches Lance’s last Pokemon fall. The man has been like something of a mentor to her on the road, and she has always seen him as her personal hero. Her surprise upon discovering that he was the champion and her final hurdle was quickly replaced with determination, not wanting to let him down and wanting to prove that she is strong enough to stand up to her hero, now.

And she is! Despite the tough battle, she is able to keep him on his toes, and she is able to catch up to him at every turn, until he no longer has the advantage over her, and until she has defeated him once and for all. She is the champion now, and she beams at him, expecting his congratulations and to be told what to do now that she has won. Instead, she is surprised to see him give her a sharp glare, and only just now does it occur to her that Lance might be a sore loser.

“You’re not ready for these responsibilities,” he says. “You can’t be the champion.”

“But I won!” Lyra protests. “I won the battle, so that means that I…”

“You’re not ready,” he repeats, a bit more firmly. “You’re just a little girl, Lyra. That was just a fluke, and you’re simply not ready.”

“I’m not just a little girl!” she tries to insist. The last thing she wants is for her hero- her hero that she may have a bit of a crush on- to think of her as a little girl. She had hoped this victory would make him think of her as an equal, as someone he might be able to fall for.

“You are,” he replies, “and you need someone to make you into a woman before you can even  _ consider _ claiming the championship.” His words take her by surprise, but before she has the chance to react, he is closing the distance between the two of them, yanking her close to him, his hand so tight on her wrist that she yelps.

“For starts, let’s get you out of those clothes. They make you look like a kindergartner. How old are you, Lyra?”

“F…fourteen,” she says quietly, not sure what to do now, and not sure how it has come to this. Lance can’t really want her to strip naked, can he?

“Still little, but not nearly as little as your clothes make you look,” he replies, before reaching to unbuckle her overalls. She is frozen in shock as he strips her down, realizing too late that he means everything that he says, and that he is not going to let her out of this. Before she knows it, he has her underwear off as well, and then she is naked in front of him, save for the hat on her head.

Lance gives her body a once over and says, “You’re lucky I  _ like _ little girls like you, Lyra. Now, let’s begin.”

Lyra is forced onto her knees as Lance undoes his pants, head spinning as all of this moves too quickly for her to keep up with. She wasn’t ready for this, she doesn’t think, but she did want him and she does like him, or at least, she  _ liked _ him. This new side to him might change things, but she is not in a position to think at all right now, especially as he pulls her by her pigtails and says, “Don’t you want me to make you into a woman, Lyra?”

“I…I…” she whimpers, unable to finish her sentence, and certainly unable to answer his question. What does she want from him? All she came here to do was battle him, and beyond that, she has no idea what to do, or what to say.

“Keep your mouth open,” he orders her, and she obeys, because she does not know what else to do. He pulls on her pigtails again, pulling her open mouth onto his cock, forcing it into her mouth, and laughing when she gags on it. “What, you can’t take that? And you thought you were ready to be the champion? If you can’t even suck my cock, then how did you think you were ready for all of my responsibilities?”

Not paying a bit of mind to her comfort, he begins thrusting into her throat, fucking her face with abandon, while Lyra chokes and gags on his dick, barely able to breathe at this point. Lance pulls her hair hard, using her pigtails to his advantage while he groans, “I’m a hero, Lyra, you said it yourself…I’m your hero, and you’re just a little girl…you were never ready for this.”

Even if she were able to speak to defend herself right now, she would not be able to think of any proper response. She doesn’t know anything about the world, she is beginning to realize, and Lance has only given her this rude awakening because she was stupid enough to think that she was mature, that she was ready to take him on, that she could actually stand as his equal. Of course she can’t, and of course she needs him to teach her, even if his lessons are harsh and more than she can handle.

She feels like she could throw up with how hard he is fucking her face, and she is not ready for him to come suddenly, right down her throat, and he pulls her hair hard to hold her in place, to make sure that she is not able to pull back, and that she is forced to swallow. It is only when he does finally pull back that she is able to double over, gagging and wheezing as she tries to catch her breath, with Lance standing over her, watching her with disdain.

“Is that really too much for you, darling?” he asks. “But, then, how will you handle the rest?” They are just getting started.

“Look up at me,” Lance commands her after a moment, giving her a little bit of time to try and catch her breath before he moves on. Lyra slowly lifts her head to look up at him, to find that he has his cock in his hand, aimed directly at her face. With a low groan, he relaxes, and she is so stunned that she does not think to close her mouth as he begins pissing on her.

But when she does close her mouth, he is quick to correct her, snapping, “Keep it open.” So she does, and he covers her face, making sure to get plenty into her mouth as well, and not knowing what else to do, she swallows it, until he has completely emptied his bladder, soaking her face, and soaking her hair and her hat in the process. Looking down at her, he chuckles.

“You look so pitiful, darling. It’s not that bad, is it?” he teases her, reaching down to knock her damp hat right off her head. He then reaches down to undo one pigtail and then the other, letting her hair fall limp around her face. For just a moment, his face softens as he says, “You always look so cute, but I had no idea you were this pretty with your hair down, Lyra.” It is almost tender; she can almost remember why it is that she likes him so much when he says it.

Lance helps her to her feet and walks her to the wall, her legs shaking as she goes. He lets her lean against the wall for support as he reaches a hand between her legs, smirking a bit when he touches her. “So, you were wet after all? I’m not surprised, you always seemed like the type. I knew you just needed a man to be a little rough with you, and you would fall to pieces. And you still think that you’re ready to be champion?”

Now, Lyra knows how to answer him. She knows to shake her head, to tell him that she isn’t ready, even if she can’t find her voice to say it out loud. Lance smiles and nods, and says, “That’s right, you’re not ready at all. But remember, I promised to at least help you a little bit. I’m going to make you into a woman, remember, Lyra? We’re already so close, so let’s finish what we started, darling.”

She is not sure if she loves it or hates it when he calls her that; she is not sure what she thinks of anything anymore, but when he touches her, she can’t help but moan, and he takes that as a good sign, as proof that she wants everything that he does to her. Maybe she does, because at this point, she realizes just how little she knows about anything, so how would she ever be able to know what she does or does not want? Lance can have his way with her, and she will gladly let him.

Lance might be too big for her to take for her first time. Lyra doesn’t know because she doesn’t know anything, but whether he is or isn’t, she has no choice in the matter. He has her pinned to the wall, still completely at his mercy, and she belongs to him now, has belonged to him from the moment that she made the silly decision to try and battle him, to try and challenge him for his title. It really must have been a fluke that she won, because she is not ready for this, and she is barely ready for him, but he pushes into her anyway, ready to claim his prize, because he is the real winner in all of this.

Lyra cries out, her voice broken and pathetic, and Lance leans in close to her ear and murmurs, “It’s alright, darling, you’re just fine. I’ve got you, I’m taking care of you, I’m making you a woman, just like I promised I would.” He promised he would, and she wanted it, she must have wanted it, a voice in the back of her mind tells her, so she needs to just give in, and to never let go.

She clings to him as he fucks her against the wall, getting rougher with each thrust, until she thinks that she can’t possibly handle anymore, but every time, he gives her more and she takes it. Somehow, she takes it, and somehow, she starts to like it, until somehow, she wants more, crying out for him in pleasure instead of pain, and he teases her for it, calling her a slut, saying that he always knew she had this side to her, that he could always tell.

“We can’t have a shameless little slut for a champion, Lyra,” he says. “Don’t you think the league is better suited in the hands of a hero? Don’t worry, we can just pretend you lost, like we both know that you should have. Doesn’t that sound so much better, darling?” She comes when he calls her darling, trembling and moaning for him, and so lost in her bliss that she pays no mind to the fact that this is all wrong, that this is not how any of this was supposed to go at all. Lance is taking care of her, just like he promised he would.

He does not slow down when she comes, fucking her even harder then, grunting as he pounds into her, and she remains limp, too tired and overwhelmed to do anything but take it. When he comes inside of her, she can’t even bring herself to panic, but she knows that no protection was used, and that he did not even pretend to think about pulling out. What does it matter anymore? She isn’t going to be the champion, and she has nothing else to do from here.

Lance has his responsibilities, but she has nothing, and so, she thinks that it might not be such a bad idea to dedicate herself to him entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in my writing updates, please follow my fanfiction twitter @WattStalf  
> 


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